


Can I Hold Your Books For You?

by gattan_cae



Series: "Hardcore" Kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Aftercare, Albino Lio Fotia, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cock Warming, Dominant Galo Thymos, Established Relationship, Human Furniture, Humiliation, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Nonbinary Lio Fotia, Submissive Lio Fotia, Trans Lio Fotia, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gattan_cae/pseuds/gattan_cae
Summary: Galo gets a very stylish new book stand thatreallyhelps him study.Kinktober day 5:  humiliation
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Series: "Hardcore" Kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949854
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Can I Hold Your Books For You?

**Author's Note:**

> it's really humiliation + degradation because i don't care for humiliation all that much but you might have noticed every single one of my fics (just about) features degradation

They talked about this at great length and Lio spent hours reassuring Galo over and over that this is okay, he wants it, this is exactly what he wants. And despite—rather, because of—all those hours of prep and anticipation, Lio’s cheeks are burning with humiliation. Galo had forced him to drink three glasses of water and they’re catching up to him now. He’s knelt on the floor under Galo’s desk warming Galo’s cock as Galo pretends to do readings. Galo’s dick is heavy and salty stuffed in Lio’s mouth and Lio is trying desperately to concentrate on that feeling rather than how much he has to pee, but it’s not really working and he’s wiggling back and forth uneasily.

“What’s the matter?” Galo asks from above the desk. Lio pulls away.

“I have to pee,” he whines.

“You know how to ask,” Galo says, pushing his chair back and tucking himself back into his pants.

“May I please go pee?” Lio asks plaintively, begging with his eyes from under Galo’s desk.

“C’mon.” Galo holds out a hand to help Lio up but keeps the possessive hold as he leads Lio down to the bathroom and guides him into the stall. He stands outside while Lio pees and Lio is embarrassed the whole time, especially as Galo supervises his hand-washing and closely escorts him back to the room.

“Do you want to get back under the desk?” Galo asks.

Lio shakes his head. “My knees hurt.”

Galo thinks for a moment, his face going pensive, then smiles slowly. “Take all your clothes off. Sit on the desk with your legs open.”

Lio’s face flushes, but he doesn’t disobey. Galo’s been a quick study in both domming and brat taming and Lio knows that somehow, Galo will come up with something worse than the humiliation if he dares to talk back. So Lio unzips his hoodie and makes to toss it on the bed, but Galo shakes his head.

“Your clothes belong on the floor.”

Lio drops his hoodie to the floor and wishes immediately that the window wasn’t cracked open, the cool breeze from outside cuts right through Lio’s shirt. Galo leans back in his desk chair, surveying Lio like a master surveys his domain, and makes a lordly gesture for him to continue. Lio bites his lips and pops the button on his jeans, sliding them down and shivering at the fresh, cold air against his skin. Galo eyes him openly and hungrily, possessively. Lio hasn’t even taken off his shirt and he already feels stripped bare. He pulls off his T-shirt and gasps as the air hits his chest, nipples hardening painfully.

“Keep going,” Galo says, sounding almost bored. Lio pulls down his underwear, staring at them pooled around his ankles, shivering in the middle of Galo’s room, while Galo watches fully-clothed and in control. It makes his entire body _burn_ with embarrassment. With two practiced moves, Lio pulls off his socks and underwear. They fall to the floor on top of the pile of Lio’s clothes and dignity. Galo pats the desk and Lio hops up, lips pursed tightly. Galo directs him to shuffle backwards and Lio does, his bare ass sticking to the laminate. Then Galo grabs his knees and spreads them wide open. He rakes his eyes heavily over Lio’s vulnerable, bared pussy, up his belly to his tiny, cold tits. Lio folds in on himself a little, trying to protect himself from that probing, owning gaze.

“What if someone sees me?” Lio asks, all too conscious of the cracked window and slightly-raised shades behind him.

“So?” Galo asks in reply. “Sit up straight.”

Lio sits up, fighting against the cold and the embarrassment. Galo opens a book and presses it into Lio’s arms, positioning him and the tome so that he functions as a book holder. He is _so_ painfully aware of his state of undress, his vulnerability, Galo’s power. Galo has Lio shuffle back a little farther—he winces when his ass comes in contact with a new, colder area of the desk—and then Galo grabs his notebook and slaps it down on the desk between Lio’s knees. He starts transcribing reading notes from the book, completely ignoring Lio.

Lio does his best to sit still, though Galo admonishes him for shivering—“furniture doesn’t move,” he says without looking up—and slowly he slides down into a strange feeling of floating disconnect, like an out of body experience. Being naked, exposed, used without touch, having his humanity disregarded, it gets to Lio. All he wants is to be good for Galo, and Galo has stripped him down and told him to be useful. He’ll be useful. He’ll be so good and so still and hold this book so well. He can’t be a good boy or a good girl because he’s not a boy or a girl, but he’ll be good and useful so Galo appreciates him. So that Galo values him. Like a good chair. Useful, valuable, nice, good.

Then Galo takes the book out of Lio’s arms and points at the floor. “All fours,” he says. Lio slides down off the desk onto his hands and knees. “Clean up your mess.” Lio crawls over to his pile of clothes and pauses, awaiting further instruction. “Put them on the bed.”

Lio leans down and picks up a sock in his mouth. It smells and tastes bad. He crawls over to the bed and reaches up, depositing the sock on the edge of the bed. He can’t reach much further. Then he crawls back to his pile of clothes and retrieves the other sock. Then his underwear. Then his shirt, his pants, his hoodie. He struggles to get the bigger items onto the bed, but he does it.

When he’s done, Lio sits back on his haunches, thousand-yard stare going somewhere through the floor in front of him. Galo stands and walks around him, fingertips just brushing the top of Lio’s head, and sits on the edge of the bed. “On my lap,” he says, patting his thighs. Lio obediently crawls into Galo’s lap and can’t help but curl into the welcome warmth of his chest. A soft blanket drapes over Lio’s form and Galo pulls him into a tight hug.

“You did great,” Galo murmurs into Lio’s ear. “You still in subspace? Can you tell me if you’re okay?”

“Mm,” Lio tries, surprised when any sound comes out at all. Galo rubs his hands up and down Lio’s back, trying to work warmth and feeling and connection back into him. It works, and Lio sinks back down into his body and becomes conscious of his very vulnerable nakedness again. He turns and hides his face in Galo’s pecs. “’m back,” he mumbles.

“You okay?” Galo asks, still rubbing Lio’s back.

“Mm,” Lio says.

“What do you need?”

Lio thinks about that, fisting the warm cotton of Galo’s T-shirt. He shuffles himself around so that he’s pressed all the way up against Galo chest-to-chest, soaking in his warmth while Galo wraps his big, safe arms around Lio and presses his face into his hair. Lio tucks his face in the crook of Galo’s neck and inhales his familiar, comforting scent. “Clothes,” he says finally. “Yours.”

“What, these? Or clean ones?” Galo chuckles and Lio feels the rumble of it through his sternum.

“These,” he says in a small voice. Galo presses a kiss to the top of Lio’s head, then gently picks him up and deposits him against the pillows, tucking the blanket in closely around him. He strips down to his boxer-briefs, putting on a bit of a show for Lio’s benefit and making him giggle. Then he tenderly pulls his warm, worn shirt down over Lio’s head. He pulls his joggers over Lio’s lower half, tucking the cuffs under to encase Lio’s cold little feet. Then he drowns Lio in his sweatshirt, rearranging Lio’s hair perfectly before pulling the hood up and cinching the drawstring down with a laugh. He swaddles Lio in the blanket again. Lio burrows down in to the warm, plush, Galo-smelling clothes, watching sleepily as Galo dresses himself in fresh clothes.

“You look like you’re falling asleep, firefly,” Galo says softly, sitting on the bed at Lio’s feet. Lio nods and hides a yawn inside the hood. “You can spend the night, if you want.”

“Mm-hm,” Lio hums. Galo rubs his shins and Lio smiles contentedly, his eyes drifting shut.

“You were a very good boy for me, Lio. You did well.”


End file.
